Growing up in the South, I honestly believed that it was important to be married by 25. To me, 25 meant that you were an adult, and you did adult things like have a cool job, drive a cool car, and tie the knot. (Kids don’t come until you’re 28, a number I chose because that’s how old my mom was when she had me.)
As I grew older (aka closer to the official adult age of 25), I realized that I had absolutely no desire to be married at 25. I wanted a career that I loved, and at 25, I was going to be climbing the corporate ladder in the automotive industry.
As my 25th birthday got closer and closer, my anxiety became more increased. 2016 rolls around, and I panic because it’s the year that I turn 25. February gets here, and I slowly start to lose my cool. But today I’m turning 25, and I am owning it.
24 was the year of doing things that made me uncomfortable. 25 is the year of owning it.
I will no longer apologize for or be embarrassed by things out of my control.
I will stop putting so much pressure on myself to have the perfect career, especially when I only have three years of work experience.
I will invest my time and money in things that make me happy – my blog, art, brunch, learning, self improvement, and spending time with family, friends, and my boyfriend.
I will worry less about what people think about me.
I will embrace the fact that my life if messy and beautiful and overwhelming and rewarding.
And I will shake it off when someone asks me when I’m getting engaged, when I’m getting married, or if I’ve thought about having kids any time soon.
Cheers to 25 years. Cheers to owning it.